


kissin' in the cold (i want a snowfall kind of love)

by pancakesforbreakfast



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: (or snowballs in this case), F/M, Grad School AU, Human K-2SO (Star Wars), Shara Bey and Jyn Erso are ready to throw fists in any universe, and she has no shame about that, brief mention of canon parental death, but this is basically daydream fulfillment for the author, kissin' in the snow, shameless fluff, the characters are a bit ooc tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakesforbreakfast/pseuds/pancakesforbreakfast
Summary: Cassian hates snow.Actually, that’s not true. Cassian just doesn’t get the excitement that seems to overtake everyone else the first time the campus is covered in white. Snow is cold and wet, and the frigid upstate New York winds certainly don't help.But a certain Jyn Erso is determined to show him how much fun snow can be.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	kissin' in the cold (i want a snowfall kind of love)

**Author's Note:**

> Initially inspired by JP Saxe and Julia Michael's song "Kissin' in the Cold." Title also taken from "Snowfall" by Ingrid Michaelson which came on while I was editing and also felt perfectly in line.

Cassian hates snow.

Actually, that’s not true. Cassian just doesn’t get the excitement that seems to overtake everyone else the first time the campus is covered in white. Most of his friends seem to think that being from Mexico, he should be obsessed with snow. And sure, he was excited the first time they got a few inches his first year at Cornell, but the novelty quickly wore off. Snow was cold, and the frigid upstate New York winds had a talent for finding every gap along the hood of his parka and pushing the freezing particles inside.

At least Kay understood. Cassian’s best friend and roommate could be counted on to draw the conversation away from him when their friends started judging the not-so-merry among them, as he was doing right now.

“ – isn’t actually white. Technically, snow is translucent. It only appears white because it reflects more than 90% of light, with no particular wavelength absorbed more than any others,” Kay lectures at Shara who had made the mistake of telling Cassian that he “has to want a white Christmas!”

Alongside them, her husband, Kes, shakes his head in bemusement. From the way their intertwined hands hover just behind their bodies, Cassian thinks Kes may be holding Shara back from physically shutting Kay up. Shara is one of those southerners who absolutely adores snow. She grew up in Florida and had seen snow maybe four times before coming to Cornell for her PhD in aerospace engineering. Every first snow, Cassian would wake up to the obnoxious buzzing of his phone as she blew up their group chat with exclamations of “SSSSSNNNNNNOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” and photos of herself making snow angels and teeny tiny snowmen. 

Kes isn’t much better, but his enthusiasm tends to be contained to a directive to “Get your lazy asses outside.” A Guatemalan from a well-off family, Kes talks fondly of family vacations to the States to ski and snowboard in the Rockies. The civil engineering student has tried several times to cajole Cassian into coming with him to the local ski resort where he and Shara have season lift passes, but after three years, Cassian thinks he may have finally given up.

Their usual group of four, brought together in their first years of graduate school by an intimidating advanced statistics course, is headed to an evening guest lecture on the latest advances in artificial intelligence. Upstate New York did its typical December thing and started dumping snow on them as soon as Cassian and Kay left their apartment complex. Though the residual heat of the sidewalks is still melting most of the snow, the shaken snow globe around them promises more than a few inches piled up by the end of the lecture.

“Which makes it appear white!” Shara argues back. “And besides, that’s not the point. The point is: Christmas just isn’t Christmas if there isn’t snow!”

“Aren’t you from Florida?” a new voice pipes in. Cassian’s head pivots to take in the woman approaching them from an intersecting sidewalk.

“Jyn!” Shara exclaims, breaking free from Kes’s hold to hug the newcomer. “Are you going to the Mothma lecture too?”

“Yeah, she’s an old friend of Papa’s.” The short brunette shrugs nonchalantly, as if she’s talking about the neighbor whose cat you take care of when they’re away not one of the leading minds in AI design. 

Jyn Erso is the daughter of Galen Erso, esteemed professor of mechanical engineering, known for his work on alternative energy sources. Cassian would give anything to have the connections she has. But Jyn studies rocks. Well, more specifically something about crystal structures. Cassian should probably know a bit more about her dissertation proposal by now (Shara latched on to the first year PhD student pretty early on this semester after meeting in an astrogeology class), but his mind has a frustrating tendency to stop listening to the actual words when she’s speaking.

Speaking of which… Cassian forces himself to stop staring at the snowflakes caught on the edge of the scarf wrapped over Jyn’s head and join back in on the conversation, which has apparently returned to the topic of snow yet again.

“After our first year here, I told my parents, ‘Sorry, but I’m never moving back to Florida! You guys can come to New York for Christmas from now on!’” Shara says.

Kes laughs. “She really did!”

“How did they take that?” Jyn asks.

“They just kind of rolled their eyes and made sure to forward me sales on flights home the next fall.”

“With the dates for Christmas week already filled in,” Kes adds. “But they’re coming up with my family to go skiing for New Year’s, so we might convince them yet.”

“So you two are going to Florida and then Bristol.” Jyn pulls ahead of their little pack, so she can turn to face them. While still walking backward confidently despite the slick concrete, Cassian notes. “What are you doing for the holidays, Kay?”

Beside him, Kay straightens up, clearly surprised to be addressed. “I do not celebrate any observances of the winter solstice. I will be undertaking an intensive course on C++ programming during the break.”

Jyn presses her lips together as if she’s trying to hold in a sarcastic remark, but does not reply. Instead, she turns her attention on Cassian, while still navigating the snow-soaked sidewalk backwards. “And you?”

Cassian shrugs, causing the faux fur around his hood to tickle his cheeks. “Not much. I’ll just be around campus,” he replies.

Shara jumps in. “Probably hiding in his apartment, lab, and the library. Cassian is no fun in the winter. He doesn’t like snow,” she finishes, with an accusatory head tilt.

“You don’t like snow?” In some cosmic karma, Jyn hits a patch of ice hidden under the dusting of snow, and her footing slips. Her arms windmill, but she manages to keep her balance. Cassian gets an eyebrow raise in before she turns around to walk forward, a hint of sheepishness in her shoulders. (If a voice in his head thinks “Finally,” it’s snide over her inevitable fall from wintery grace, not because she can no longer distract him with her blinding smile. Not at all.)

“I don’t _dislike_ snow. I just think it’s overrated,” Cassian defends himself. “It’s cold and wet, and why anyone would willingly subject themselves to it any longer than necessary is beyond me.”

“But it can be so fun!” Jyn defends. “There’s sledding and ice skating and – I would totally own you in a snowball fight!” She turns and mimes throwing a snowball at him before spinning back around to keep walking. The moment is short, but Cassian catches his lips wanting to answer her bright smile with one of his own.

“It’s no use,” Shara complains. “I’ve been trying for years, but Captain Humbug here just won’t be swayed.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jyn says, and Cassian can hear the resolve settle in her voice. Jyn is not one to back down from a challenge. He thinks he might be in real trouble now. But she changes the subject to a funny encounter at Collegetown Bagels, and they make it to the University Chapel, where the lecture is being held, without another mention of Cassian’s Grinch-like tendencies (as Shara has called them).

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

The chapel is nearly packed when they arrive. Despite being the second shortest, Shara unerringly leads them to a cluster of seats in the back corner. She and Kes slide into a pew with room for one more. Cassian begins to move aside to let Jyn pass him to sit next to her friend, but Shara grabs Kay’s arm instead and pulls him down next to her.

“Cassian and I –“ Kay starts to protest, but Shara must give him one hell of a look, because he abruptly shuts his mouth.

Cassian himself must look as startled as he feels, because Shara twists in her seat to gesture at the bench behind them. “There’s two perfectly good seats right there. Or are you planning to stand at attention the whole time, Captain Andor?”

Cassian resists the urge to stick out his tongue at the joke about his good posture; Shara really does remind him of his little sister too much at times. Instead, he slides into the pew, allowing Jyn to take the outside seat.

The group continues their idle chitchat about their upcoming finals for a few minutes before the lights dim, and Professor Draven introduces Mon Mothma.

Dr. Mothma’s research on using machine learning AI’s to assist ambassadors in running scenarios based on proposed options in treaties quickly and without bias is fascinating, but Cassian was up until 3am last night working through the last of Draven’s wickedly hard circuitry puzzles before the final. About halfway through the lecture, his eyelids grow heavy, and his blinks last longer and longer.

Then something pokes him hard in his ribcage. Cassian’s eyes fly open, and he looks to his right. Jyn is looking straight ahead, appearing to be intently focused on the lecture, but her lips are pulled into a smirk.

The second time she pokes him, Cassian replies with an elbow gently knocked into hers. Half thanks, half challenge. He’s rewarded with a widened smile, though her gaze stays determinedly forward.

The third time, she gives up her pretense. When Cassian shakes himself awake, she pokes him again and pushes a pencil and a discarded bulletin towards him. On the back, in surprisingly messy handwriting, she has written:

Diplomatic relations not your thing? 

For a second, near-forgotten memories rise up of passing notes like this back and forth with his sister at Sunday mass when they were small. But he shakes them off and replies:

_Diplomacy is important. But not when I’m running on three hours of sleep._

Ouch. Finals?

_Not even. Weekly project for my electronic circuitry class._

Jyn holds onto the paper for a while after he passes it back. Cassian is about to return his attention to Mothma’s lecture when the sheet is pushed back under his gaze.

Do you want to get out of here? 

He must hesitate for too long, because Jyn grabs it back. She scribbles furiously for a longer time before returning it.

You don’t seem like you’re getting much out of this right now. ~~I have a few ideas for a better use of our time.~~ ~~I can think of some more fun things to do.~~ I’d like to try to change your mind about snow. No pressure if you don’t want to though. 

_Don’t you want to talk to Mothma afterwards?_

Nah. Papa has dinner with her tomorrow. I’ve stuck around long enough to prove I went .

Cassian considers the offer for a moment. Stay and keep falling in and out of sleep, getting effectively nothing out of the lecture or follow this woman who exasperates him but he can’t seem to get out of his head?

_Let’s go._

Jyn smiles like a kid just told they’re getting a snow day, and Cassian’s heart skips. Then she grabs his hand and pulls him along with her through a small side door he has never noticed before.

Cassian was right about the snow accumulation. In less than an hour, the campus has turned into what Shara would call a “winter wonderland.” The snow on the sidewalks is at least two inches deep, and the ground beside it, already covered from a few days ago, must be getting close to half a foot. 

Jyn lets go of his hand once they reach the bottom of the chapel steps, and Cassian stuffs his fingers into his pockets to keep them warm (and just a little to stop himself from reaching to capture her fingers again). The brunette pulls her scarf back over her head and starts walking, not even glancing back to make sure he follows. “Papa took this job just a few months after Mama died,” Jyn begins. Cassian knows that Jyn lost her mother as a child, but it isn’t something she talks about much. Curious, he lengthens his strides to catch up. “Growing up in London, I’d seen snow but never like here. Snow in London never lasted long. And it always felt grey and dirty. Like it had already picked up the grime from the streets before it even landed. The first time it snowed here, I thought ‘Great. Now it’ll look like I feel: sad and grey and lonely.’ But it didn’t. I woke up to white. Everywhere. A clean slate.”

Jyn stops suddenly, then resumes walking again after just a moment. Cassian ends up a few paces in front of her before he realizes. She chuckles as she catches up to him. “Not that I was thinking that poetically as a nine-year-old. Actually, I was kind of upset it didn’t look like London snow. But then Papa sent me over to the Rooks’ house – it was a snow day for my school, but the university wasn’t closed. Bodhi taught me about playing in the snow that day. We – Come on, this way.”

Jyn breaks off, pinches the sleeve of his parka between two gloved fingers, and pulls Cassian off the sidewalk, dragging him between two spruce trees. They emerge into a small clearing surrounded by evergreens. Two benches sit near the center, facing each other with their piles of snow like fluffy, white cushions. Jyn walks to the far side of the benches, leaving Cassian on the near side of the clearing. “We went sledding and built snowmen and drank so much hot chocolate that his mum sent us back outside to run off our sugar highs,” she continues. “I felt truly happy for the first time since…”

Jyn trails off, gazing down at the snow by her feet. Cassian watches the snowflakes fall around her small form and pictures her even smaller, a child still grieving her mother. The Jyn Erso he knows is all loud jokes and a concerning quickness to throw fists, whether physical or verbal, but now he considers that there might be a softness hiding under that bravado and brashness.

Then he takes a snowball to the face. It is cold and wet, and as the meltwater drips down his neck, he thinks he may need to reconsider that reconsidering. Jyn Erso is definitely devious.

The woman in question has ducked behind the bench closest to her and is busy making an arsenal of snowballs. Cassian may not have been in a lot of snowball fights, but being friends with Shara Bey and Kes Dameron means he’s been caught in the crossfires of one or two. So he’s not totally unprepared. Cassian follows Jyn’s example and moves so the benches will provide some cover as he pulls on his gloves and starts gathering nearby snow into projectile weapons.

Jyn resumes her attack first, sending a volley of snowballs over the benches. A few hit their mark, but most scatter in an array around him. Cassian waits. He sends every third snowball he makes across the divide, hoping she will keep up her assault until she runs out of ammunition. His plan seems to work as soon the frequency of her barrage slows down. He chances a peak over the benches and sees Jyn bent over, scooping snow between her gloved hands. Now is his chance. He quickly counts his pile. Satisfied with the twenty-two snowballs stacked near his feet, he scoops up as many as he can hold, stands, and rapidly fires.

Jyn doesn’t look up when the first one hits, keeping her focus on replenishing her stock. But as the second and third hit in quick succession, her head snaps up and her scarf slips off of her head. The next snowball hits square on her forehead, scattering snow into her hair and across her cheeks. Her mouth drops open in silent indignation. “Oh it’s on, Andor!” she calls after shaking off her surprise. She reaches down, then stands and runs out from behind the bench, and Cassian realizes he has once again underestimated Jyn Erso. In her arms, Jyn carries a pile of snowballs he hadn’t realized she had kept hidden. And now, she’s running towards him, pelting him with the icy projectiles as she goes. Cassian quickly grabs more from his pile and returns fire. Without the bench to hide behind, she zigzags, trying to avoid his (very accurate, he congratulates himself) throws. But she keeps gaining ground.

Soon Cassian’s armful runs out, and he’s forced to bend to restock. Just as he is about to stand up and re-engage, Jyn tackles him, knocking both of them into the snow. She’s small and Cassian could probably push her off, but he’s laughing too hard to try. (Not to mention the part of him that is cataloging all the places their bodies are touching and how nice her weight feels on top of him.) Jyn is laughing too, and the sound reminds him of the church bells that would ring at midnight every Christmas Eve back in Mexico. He never wants her to stop.

“I give! I give! You win!” Cassian calls, throwing his hands above his head in surrender.

Jyn is laughing so hard she can barely hardly speak. “Good! I always win!” she finally gets out.

“A bit cocky, aren’t we?”

“Can’t be cocky if it’s true.” Then she grabs a handful of snow and shoves it into his already damp hair, his hood long since fallen, trapped uselessly against his back.

That’s it, he thinks. Time to wipe that (captivating) smirk off her face. Cassian wraps an arm around Jyn’s back, pinning her to him, and throws his weight so that they flip, making Jyn squeak as she lands in the cold snow. Cassian’s raises one triumphant eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Her eyes sparkle, laughing and defiant, and Cassian isn’t sure if she doesn’t reply or if he just does not hear it. Jyn’s joy is contagious, and his smile is growing wider by the second, as is his attraction. Before tonight, he would not have denied that Jyn was gorgeous, and he knew she was smart, but he had always thought of her as the spoiled professor’s daughter, given everything she ever wanted on a silver platter. It seemed kind of silly how little had actually changed, but hearing the story of her first winter in New York and seeing her play in the snow like a child had shifted something, recontextualized every interaction he’d had with her. Now Cassian looked at her and saw a woman doing her best with what life had given her. He had to respect her seeking out joy for herself - and appreciate her sharing it with him.

Cassian shakes himself from his thoughts when Jyn pushes insistently against his chest. “Okay, okay,” she says. “I suppose you win that time. But since we’re already covered in snow, we might as well make snow angels! Which means, get off me, you oaf!”

Cassian stands and offers her a hand up, which she ignores as she scrambles to her feet and pivots her head wildly side to side. He’s only a little disappointed, he tells himself. “Ah, here we go!” she announces. Then she grabs his hand again and pulls him towards the edge of the clearing where a patch of snow lies relatively unmarked by their war. Once they reach the spot she has chosen, Jyn turns around, flings her arms out wide, and falls backwards into the snow. “Try not to stomp around too much. Just turn around and flop!” she calls, moving her arms up and down like wings.

Cassian shakes his head, but follows her lead, landing with a bit less grace. “Feet too!” she instructs, and he makes sure to swing his legs open and closed a few times. He can hear her doing the same beside him. It makes him feel slightly less ridiculous.

“I’m going to get up, but stay there,” Jyn says after a few seconds. “I’ll help you up so you don’t ruin your angel.

In a series of moves Cassian is sure he could not pull off, Jyn gets to her feet and comes to stand near his boots. She offers her hand, and he clasps it in his. “On three,” she calls. “Keep your other hand off the ground. One, two, three.”

He is on his feet, and she is right there, just enough space for their entwined hands between them. And Cassian is trying to find his words, but Jyn speaks first. “Cassian, can I kiss you?” she murmurs.

“Please,” he replies. And then she’s on her tiptoes, and her free hand is tangled in the hair at the back of his neck, and her lips meet his. It is not a long kiss, broken after just a few seconds by a giggle she cannot quite contain, but it is a good kiss, the kind that promises many more to come.

Jyn pulls back and tugs him forward to step away from their snow angels. As he turns to view them, he slips an arm around her shoulders to keep her close to his side. “So what do you think of snow now?” she asks.

He looks at the two indents in the snow, angels lying side by side. Then he looks at the bright smile lighting up her face. The snow is still falling. He is still cold, and his hair is soaked from their snowball fight. Cassian still does not really like snow, but he supposes he can see some of the appeal, especially as the lamplight catches in the flakes on Jyn’s eyelashes as she turns to look up at him.

He does not reply with words, just leans over to kiss her again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did it! I finished this before Christmas! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little piece of wish fulfillment. I know we all just want good things for the Rogue One crew, and wintry fun times are certainly good. (Though tbh, my feelings towards snow align much more with Cassian's than Jyn's in this piece. Which made this kind of difficult to write.) 
> 
> Merry Christmas! Happy belated Hanukkah! Bitchin' Yule! Io Saturnalia! Happy Kwanzaa! Merry Any Other Holiday You Might Be Celebrating!


End file.
